Noct was a big hit with the boys. After all, Austin wasn’t the only one of his band mates who knew who Vilification were. While their aesthetics may have been wildly different, the two bands did share some similar influences when it came to musical style. Vilification just tended to be a little more unhinged, and a bit less serious. They were a lot less afraid to experiment: the goblin metal influences were very obvious in what they offered up.

Jake, Sycorax’s bassist, was particularly and instantly enamoured. Oddly enough, not so much because she was “Noct”, but more because he’d always loved the bass samples “Jim” had conjured up for Austin in the early days of his career. Jake wasn’t afraid to have it be known that some of the work she had done for Austin were the first things he’d been drawn to when they had been looking for a vocalist, and found his tracks online. 

They had all had a good time, fooling around drinking and then dancing as the night wore on, accompanied by Dai and a couple of his students he’d managed to find in the throng of musicians. The next morning had greeted Austin with a tender head and an aftertaste in his mouth he could only describe as “licked carpet”. A quick vocal warm up had determined no damage though so he was happy. 

Austin hadn’t seen either Dai or Noct since the night before, and their set was rapidly approaching. They were due to play on the second, slightly smaller stage, following an Australian-based metalcore band with a decently large following, at least judging from the furore they were drumming up. 

The muted roar of the crowd filled him with a deep thrumming buzz. It was so loud. So much louder than any of the pubs and clubs Sycorax had played in the past. This was by far and away the largest show they had ever played, and the crowd seemed positively enormous. 

Austin felt like he was vibrating internally, humming with an anticipation that built steadily with every song the little metalcore unit before them belted out. Something in his pocket buzzed and jangled, and Austin struggled for a moment to jam his hand into almost uncomfortably tight jeans. The screen of his phone lit up with a message that when clicked, revealed a photo. Dai filled most of his screen, as broad and bearish as ever. His chin was propped on top of Noct’s head, cushioned between the tiny cat ears that stood straight up on her hoodie. They were both grinning stupidly at the camera, framed in between the shoulders of the crowd standing around them. Noct was sporting one of the limited edition Sycorax shirts that had been released alongside their first album beneath her unzipped hoodie. Under the photo, Dai had typed two words:

“We’re here!”

He couldn’t help the way his fingers tightened around the little phone. Austin unconsciously chewed the side of his thumb, trying to stamp down on the sudden surge of adrenaline and nerves. It was then that Jake chose to stab him in the asscheek with the head of his bass, in the most gentle and affectionate manner someone could assault another with a literal blunt instrument. 

“You gettin’ notes from your lady love?” Jake wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Austin flushed and jammed the phone hurriedly back in his pocket. 

“I - no, she’s not -” He quickly gave up, as Jake settled for happy chortling to himself and busily re-tuning his bass.

“Sure, man. You just make sure when you get in her good books you let me know. I wanna learn that solo off ‘Lights’ and I know she had something to do with writing it.” The little shit was grinning when he said it, making a show of casually not paying attention as he fiddled with a tuning key. Austin rolled his eyes at his bandmate, who was studiously avoiding direct eye contact in a bid to be as annoying as humanly possible. While Austin, along with their guitarist and drummer, tended to get nervy before shows, Jake never failed to get increasingly and more flamboyantly aggravating to others as the hours ticked down to minutes. 

To avoid giving the little troll any more fuel for his fire, Austin instead took the time to sidle up to peek out at the crowd. It was hard to think of the people out there as individuals, packed together the way they were, like a surging, living sea, or one great, noisy beast. They seemed to move as a single creature, back and forth, pockets opening and closing as pits formed and then fell in on themselves again. The metalcore band onstage seemed to be reaching their crescendo, as the piece they were ripping through suddenly slowed right down and got lower. The crowd screamed along with the singer, as he dropped into one last wretchedly deep and sustained guttural. 

There was silence, and then darkness, and then the swelling roar as the crowd screamed out their appreciation. 

They were next.